Murphy's Law
by Impracticable.Dreamer
Summary: "Everything in the Princess' life was planned—what she was supposed to know, the process of choosing her groom, how many sons she'll have to bear—then you just come barging into her life and ruin the plan! But screw it, she—I—I've never been so happy that my plans have been ruined because of the one thing that went wrong. And that was you." [Fairytale!AU. Hiccstrid. Oneshot.]


_title: murphy's law_

 _rating: T for curse words and slight violence_

 _genre: Romance, Drama_

 _disclaimer: I own nothing._

 _inspiration: Disney films + shrek + fairy tale AUs from anime fandoms (particularly Fairy Tail's Nalu/Gajevy fics which has a lot of this AU)_

 _background music on loop while writing this fic: Fairy Tale by Jean-Philippe Rio-Py (his stuff is under the artist name RIOPY on spotify, if you're interested); it may also be useful to note that parts below with titles are titles of the same artist's compositions that I also listened to while writing them (Drive and I love you are my favorites, BTW)_

 _Warnings: the usual: Unbeta'd. Grammatical and typographical errors. Weird characterization because I'm forcing characters into roles that don't really fit them. And Dragonborn here does not mean people who can "fight dragons on equal terms" (sorry, Skyrim fans)._

 _Pre-story notes: Yes, yes, I know, I should really work on that third installment on my other fic, but this plot bunny turned up and I could not resist. X( Also, apologies for the length of the oneshot. *Looks at other oneshots in the fandom with a length of 900+ to 3k+ words. Looks at own oneshot with 11k+ words* (dafudge!) This is what you get when you cram a ten-part story into one full-length oneshot. In my defense, though, I've read oneshots with word counts beyond 20k or 25k, so it doesn't really bother me much. Maybe this isn't usual in this fandom, and I can really break this up into chapters, but I don't see the point of breaking up such a simple concept which I believe would be more enjoyable in one go. Anyway, hope you enjoy this cliché twist to the Aarne-Thompson-Uther folk story classification 300: The Dragonslayer, or more commonly known as The Princess and the Dragon._

 _On with the story!_

* * *

 _(sit down with me and tell me_

 _about the dragon who fell in love,_

 _and almost burned the world for it)_

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Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away, there lived a beautiful princess. She lived happily in her kingdom until a terrible fire-breathing dragon began to terrorize her nation. To save her people from grief, the Princess volunteered herself to be the sacrificial victim to assuage the dragon's anger. And thus, she was locked away in a castle guarded by the same dragon, and was bewitched to sleep. Many brave knights had attempted to free her from this dreadful prison, but none prevailed. So the Princess waited and waited for her knight in shining armor in the dragon's keep in the highest room of the tallest tower for her true love and true love's first kiss… Until one fateful day, Prince Charming valiantly surged in with his noble steed and killed the dragon. He raced towards the highest floor of the tallest tower and kissed the pretty, sleeping Princess. True Love's first kiss broke the curse, and the Prince and Princess married and ruled the Kingdom in peace. And they lived happily ever after.

She knew that that was bullshit.

There were so many things that were wrong with this version of the story.

First of all, it didn't need to be a fire-breathing dragon anymore, and it didn't need to be terrorizing any kingdom—not that the dragons didn't attack the kingdoms any longer; indeed, they were still persistent in assaulting the nations during dragon raids and it was a recurring problem for all of the kingdoms in the continent. But the point was that the King and Queen can choose whatever wicked being can 'protect' their Princess, may it be a sorcerer or a witch or a dragon.

Second, there was no volunteering at all. Princesses were expected to leave their families and isolate themselves with a vile watchdog at a certain age. This wasn't exile. It was a rite of passage.

And lastly, Princesses were not bewitched for eternal slumber; they only pretended to be asleep until the first kiss.

She was told that it used to be real back in the day—back when magic was new, when princesses were untaught but sincere, and when princes were foolish but brave. Nowadays, princesses have become more naïve and princes less valiant. She didn't know why this tradition still existed in this century, though.

It was the way of the kingdoms, she supposed; to send their princesses to high towers and be guarded by wicked beings to be rescued by princes. It was a test of courage and honor, the elder ones said. The prince must be brave, skilled and disciplined enough to defeat whatever wicked being he faced.

But what of the princesses?

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 _Princess Rapunzel was trapped in a hidden tower with a witch to guard her._

 _Princess Merida was detained in a ruined citadel with a bewitched bear to secure her._

 _Princess Anna was imprisoned in an ice palace with a snow queen to watch over her._

 _And now, it was her turn._

 _Princess Astrid was to be locked up in an abandoned castle with a dragon to keep an eye on her._

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Princess Astrid had always prided herself as being fearless.

Now standing before the dragon, however, she could not help but tremble at the sight of it.

The dragon was a huge reptilian beast as large as half a room, with reddish-black scales that lined up its body like shields, serving as its impenetrable armor. Its teeth were like daggers, pointed and sharp, and its claws were like spears, the talons long and the grip powerful. The one thing that stood out from its terrible beauty, though, were its eyes—they were like molten emeralds, so intense and captivating and with just the slightest hint of loneliness and clemency if one looked too deeply into orbs of fiery green.

"Curtsy to the great dragon, Astrid!" her mother hissed hurriedly under her breath. Snapping out of her trance, Astrid lowered her lashes and bowed, following the example of her parents beside her.

They had travelled all the way from their kingdom to the neighboring nation of Berk, where her parents had drawn up an agreement with a dragon from the south to keep her. How they had managed to communicate with an untamable beast, she did not know, and neither did she want to figure out how. Per agreement, the dragon was to collect her today in the forest just right outside the outskirts of its abandoned castle.

"I would like to present my daughter, Princess Astrid," her father, the King, told the dragon. He turned to her then, and introduced the dragon as well. "Astrid, this will be your keeper, the dragon Hiccup."

Astrid almost snorted at the absurdity of its name (because who in the freaking world would name a horrendous fire-breathing dragon a _hiccup_?), if not for its terrifying presence.

"Do me a favor and skip the formalities," the dragon spoke, its voice just as dreadful as its monstrosity, so deep and guttural that the forest seemed to quiver in response. Astrid was astonished by its intellect; she had not known any dragon that was capable of human speech. "Better hop on, _Princess_. We haven't got all day, unless you plan on spending the night in the forest and freezing to death."

Astrid gulped and snapped to it, taking whatever provisions she needed with her in her luggage, and shakily climbed the dragon after giving both of her parents a quick hug.

"We wish you the best, daughter," her father murmured as she uncomfortably settled on top of the dragon, and she looked back at them with what she hoped was determination, trying her best not to show any weakness. She gave them one last smile before the dragon took off without warning, and she was hoisted up into the skies even before she could say a proper goodbye.

Clutching desperately at the scales of the dragon, and trying hopelessly not to be blown away by the rush of wind that greeted her, Astrid observed the change in scenery in her surroundings. The lush greens of the forest were becoming farther and farther from them, and the scene turned into a small wasteland where a desolated castle surrounded by an extremely deep and wide moat stood against the backdrop of clear, blue skies.

She was ushered into the abandoned castle once they had landed, and she wasted no time in climbing the highest floor of the tallest tower in the palace, afraid of having to interact more with the dragon. She found that her room was surprisingly huge and clean, with a very high ceiling and a canopy bed in the middle of it. Settling herself in softness of the mattress, she willed herself to stop the tears from falling at her predicament.

She would not be able to see her parents for Thor knows how many years. And she would dearly miss her ladies-in-waiting, the children that played outside her castle every day, and the baker's sweets that she always ate in secrecy.

Stupid tradition. Stupid elders. Stupid family.

If she had a choice, she wouldn't have come here. It was unreasonable and it was a poor excuse to reinforce gender roles in modern medieval society. There were other ways on how her groom can be chosen, and she briefly wondered why she couldn't just throw her own ball and have princes and noblemen be lined up for her examination, like how the other princes did it.

But it was a plan, and although she knew it was a stupid and pointless one, it was a plan that would be pushed through until the end. Besides, the Prince always kills the dragon and marries the Princess.

Always.

* * *

 **MURPHY'S LAW**

| anything that can go wrong will go wrong |

" _Be kind to dragons, for thou art crunchy when roasted and taste good with ketchup." —Sherrilyn Kenyon, Dragonswan_

* * *

 **i.**

The first time a nobleman attempted to rescue her was around five months into her isolation.

The dragon had immediately informed her from her window that someone was coming and that she had to 'act natural,' which basically meant that she had to pretend to be asleep until the defeat of the dragon and her eventual rescue. Shoving the axe that she had secretly taken with her into a closet, she rushed to grab the bouquet of flowers on her nightstand and jumped on the bed, steadying herself down on the mattress with as much haste and grace as she could muster. She closed her eyes and held the flowers to her stomach, trying to give an appearance of deep slumber.

It had made her excited and hopeful, although the more rational part of her convinced her that it was impossible to defeat the dragon the first time. Indeed, the fight didn't even last for ten minutes. The dragon emerged at her window afterwards, taking delight at her attempt to feign graceful slumber and quiet innocence. She lashed out at him then, and retorted that nobody gets it right at the first try.

But the dragon remained undefeated for the next few attempts, and after the eighth trial, she no longer made the effort to hastily lie on the bed to pretend to sleep.

She always knew that this idea was stupid as she really found no point in her isolation. If they wanted to have a competent Princess who could rule the Kingdom one day, they should have sent her to a decent scholar to learn, or she could have immersed herself with the people of her country. But _no_ , the council insisted and her parents supported them. It was tradition and it was how Princesses were made to choose their husbands.

If she had the power to have them all them executed, then she would have given the order right away. Or she would have personally gutted all of them for instilling the idea that she needed to be rescued (she spent a good deal of her childhood secretly learning swordsmanship and the handling of other weapons, thank you!).

But it was tradition, and it was normal, and it had always been the rite for Princesses, so her parents pushed through with it. And by virtue of _no choice_ , she was settled in a 'foolproof' setup. Because the Prince always kills the dragon and marries the Princess.

Always.

(Her life was planned out; her life was perfect. And other than being trapped in an abandoned castle, she supposed she could live with it.)

 **ii.**

The dragon was more different than she had initially thought.

The first time he transformed from a dragon into a human, she was so startled that she had thrown her axe directly at it— _him_.

She was practicing her skills at axe-throwing in the courtyard of the palace when a sudden movement alarmed her and she immediately threw her weapon at the source of the sound in reflex. Instead of a scaled jet-black dragon with razor-sharp teeth and equally sharp talons evading the weapon, however, a boy in a green long-sleeved tunic had deftly caught the axe, almost clumsily dropping it to the ground.

He looked so foreign to her that she hadn't realized that it was the dragon all along, only realizing it when she took a good look at his eyes.

"You're a Dragonborn," she muttered in realization as she stared at him. "Humans that can turn to dragons. No wonder why you can speak like us!"

He was shorter and scrawnier in his human form than she had expected, and looked generally weaker, too. His hair was a mop of auburn locks that framed his freckled face, and other than the depth and vastness of the emerald pigment in his eyes, there were no other telltale signs that he was the dragon that watched over her. He merely rolled his eyes and shrugged at her realization as if her reaction was a normal occurrence all the time, and proceeded to place her axe gently against a tree when she was too stunned to retrieve it from him. He left her gaping at his human form, which was so far off from the beast she was so accustomed to seeing. Even his slightly nasal voice was a far cry from the deep and harsh tone of his dragon form. "You're going to catch flies sooner or later if keep your mouth open, Princess!"

He was rather distant during the first few months, and when they did interact, he never failed to show his sarcasm, which aggravated her to no end. She had, however, taken note of his quite gentle, and sometimes odd, mannerisms.

There were always flowers by her nightstand every day when she woke up, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that it was the dragon who had handpicked them for her the day before. He had a garden in his palace after all, and she knew it was full of different species of flora from several kingdoms. "It's for when your prince recues you," he remarked dryly one time. "Because no princess in her right mind would be caught dead without flowers, a white handkerchief and a line of praise for her knight in shining armor when she's rescued. Although I doubt any prince or knight would be competent enough to outsmart all… this." He gestured to his scrawny self, and she had to stifle a snort at his antics.

He would sometimes disappear for several hours on some days, though he always left meals for her at her doorstep (and she was grateful that he was a surprisingly good cook). She often wondered where he'd travel when he was gone, and if there was a chance she'd escape or be recovered while he was absent. To her disappointment, he always showed up at the last minute, preventing any means of a getaway. "I am extra sensitive to the thoughts of betrayal and bullshit, Princess," he explained once, and she wondered how much of it was sarcasm and how much of it was the truth.

Nevertheless, other than his occasional sass, she found that he was well-mannered and agreeable, so unlike the fierce and intimidating ambience of his dragon form. She also found that she rather enjoyed his company, though she supposed that it was because of her confinement and lack of interaction with any other human beings that she felt an attachment to him.

There were times when she missed her home, and she had convinced (coerced) the dragon to read her stories to help her sleep. He had rolled his eyes at her request (demand), but nevertheless complied after much convincing (several sucker punches to the gut and a promise of an inedible meal prepared by her). "Once upon a time," he had always begun because every story started that way; then they eventually turned to "the knight killed the dragon and saved the princess" and ended with "they lived happily ever after."

(Her life was planned out; her life was perfect. Because a _happily ever after_ was assured after all.)

 **iii.**

"You're the son of King Stoick the Vast, aren't you?" she mentioned one day when they sat together on her bed, bored beyond wits after a month without a knight's attempt of rescue.

He shrugged nonchalantly like he always did, though his pointed evasion of her gaze hinted that she was right.

"I recognize you," she continued without his consent. "Reddish brown hair and eyes so green it rivalled the beauty of emeralds. You were the former Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Berk, picked on by your peers because of your frail body and preyed on by politicians because of your status—until it was discovered that you were of dragonblood and you were disowned and locked away in an abandoned castle south of the Kingdom of Berk. Duke Snotlout replaced you as the heir to the throne.… At least that's how the story goes."

"It's Crown Prince Snotlout now," he corrected her.

A sort of awkward tension formed in the air, and although she was curious as Helheim as to his story, she didn't know how to ease the tension. Thankfully, the dragon continued.

"The King didn't think it prudent that someone of dragonblood would sit as the heir to the throne," he murmured finally, staring out from the window of her room. "Not when the dragon raids were ongoing. They think it's our fault, you know. Like dragonborns could ever control the thoughts of other dragons. We can just transform into one, but that didn't mean we have power over them."

"Why don't you explain it to them?"

"Like they would ever believe me," he answered bitterly. "I'm pretty sure that the statesmen over at Berk were glad to see me go. The only thing they fear more than a useless heir is a formidable one, and I became an inconvenient monster to them the moment they found out of my nature."

She said nothing; she had thought of the same thing the first time they met after all.

"My mother was of dragonblood, and she died even before she could tell my father about it," he admitted after a while, though she did not know what would compel him to confess to her. Perhaps it was loneliness, she mused, and promptly realized that the reason why he had agreed to keep her in the first place was that he may have needed a companion to soothe the pain of his isolation. "I used to be bullied for being useless and weak when I was younger. It didn't matter that I was the Crown Prince. I was not the fighter that my father wanted me to be, and I was not the cunning legislator the elders hoped I would be. I was strong willed, but they knew that my frailty was my weakness, so my ideas get shot down every time I bring them up, even if it was for the good of the people. My father even turned a blind eye on every dismissal and I suppose he even supported every rejection. Maybe he was relieved to see me go, too."

"You're his son," she remarked. "Surely your father does not think that way."

"He tried to _kill_ me," the dragon fumed quietly. "We had this argument in the royal hall and I just—I lost control after enduring so much hate from everyone and transformed into this hideous monster for the first time. He attacked me with everything he had and I knew he had every intention to murder me. Even those who I thought were my friends did nothing to stop him. When I transformed back into a normal kid, they immediately sentenced me to exile to this Palace."

Astrid thought for a moment at this revelation, dwelling on the pain of betrayal he must have felt but considering the shock everyone else must have had when he transformed. "Well, in all honesty, I'd try to kill you, too, if I found out that my son was a fire-breathing dragon. Imagine the blow to your father and your friends when they saw you change into a beast that kept on terrorizing the kingdom. I'd be more surprised if they didn't try to murder you."

He gave her an annoyed look. "Thank you for summing that up."

"But I must commend you for not slaughtering anyone," she commented. "It must take a lot of self-control to let all those knights and noblemen go with only broken arms and limp legs."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What makes you think I'm not killing anyone?"

"There are no corpses, not even from horses," she stated her observation and managed to hold back a smirk when the dragon froze at her perceptiveness. "The castle grounds do not even smell of rotting flesh."

"Well, I might have eaten them whole," the dragon answered back matter-of-factly.

"If you did, you might not have eaten all those vegetables from your garden and those fishes from the moat regularly," she replied, sassing him back. And just to tease him, she added, "Who would've thought that the fire-breathing dragon was a _vegetarian_?"

He tried to tickle her as a retort, accidentally finding out about her tickle spots a few weeks before. But that earned a hard punch from her and he was forced to stop it.

"Dragons aren't all that bad," he muttered, lighting up. He faced her then, a playful smirk working on his visage. "Wanna pet one?"

Before she can protest, he had hauled her to her feet and dragged her from the bed to the gardens below. He whistled, and a small group of dragons approached them from the skies. She could figure out some species—there was a gronckle, a rumblehorn and a zippleback. A beautiful blue-gold dragon appeared out of nowhere and landed before them, and she identified it as a deadly nadder. A jet-black dragon landed as well, and she almost ran away when she realized that it as a night fury—the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. The dragonborn laughed at her reaction, and she almost punched him again for his mirth.

Toothless.

That was the night fury's name, he had shared. It was his first dragon friend even before he found out that he was a dragonborn, so aptly named because of his retractable teeth. The night fury was astonishingly intelligent and playful, and she marveled at the extent of their friendship.

She supposed that the dragons were rather—dare she say it— _cute_ , now that she can study them up close. For the first time, they weren't trying to attack her, and she wondered if it was due to Hiccup's presence. She had taken quite a liking to the deadly nadder, which did not go unnoticed by the dragon. Hiccup then proceeded to teach her how to bond with the nadder, how to pet it, and how to mount it—though she was too hesitant to figure out how to fly with the dragon. They ended up spending the entire day playing with the beasts, Astrid smiled to herself at the development, looking at dragons in a new light now.

(Her life was planned out; her life was perfect. And even if she was trapped in an abandoned castle, she was surprisingly all right with it.)

 **iv.**

Seasons came and went, years passed by like seconds, and without warning, she found herself turning eighteen.

She spent the entirety of her maturation with the dragon, and she found that his prolonged company was not bad at all. Nevertheless, her parents never failed to send her letters regularly through a raven as she aged, monitoring on her conditions and informing her of any news from the kingdom. It seemed that the most recurring problem for most countries were the dragon raids, though she did not think much of it, knowing that no mindless dragon would disturb them, what with Hiccup's presence in the area.

Once, one of the nobles had managed to reach her tower, evading the dragon on the way up. She heard him gasp when he arrived in her room, and she had done her best not to squirm under his scrutiny (where was that dragon and why wasn't he doing his job? She was going to give him a piece of his mind later!). He had almost kissed her then, but the dragon had caught up to him and pounced on him even before the nobleman's lips touched hers. The dragon managed to haul the nobleman out of the room and out into the woods, thankfully. Although the dragon confessed later that he had the strangest urge to kill him, the nobleman was let go with a bad limp and a heavily wounded arm.

News of her beauty had spread far and wide after that incident, and the knights and princes and nobles kept coming in now that they had heard of her splendor.

And yet, all of them were still no match for the dragon, who was now _extra_ aggressive and _extra_ protective of her.

"He's all yours," the Princess murmured as another knight on a steed could be seen running from the distance. The dragon didn't need to be told twice as he leapt from the window and transformed into his more formidable form. Astrid languidly proceeded to 'act natural', lying in her bed as she clutched the bouquet of flowers to her chest.

She eventually figured that she didn't really care anymore. There was once a time when she had hoped that someone would come and retrieve her from her tower, but that idea barely crossed her mind now. She had grown so accustomed to her life with the dragon that she was surprisingly happy and content with it. Truly, she no longer craved for a life outside of the abandoned palace, and she dreaded the time when she was to be sent home again, to marry a stranger she barely knew, and to be the object of scrutiny when she was going to rule her kingdom ("You can only marry a Prince or a knight, Astrid," her mother insisted once, "and you must only have three children, no more, no less!")

She realized that she wanted to stay here in this tower for a long, long time, with the dragon beside her.

Said dragon appeared at her doorstep suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"How could I ever hope for a knight to defeat a dragon?" she mused as she smiled up at him. "With the level of ineptitude these knights and princes possess, I'm going to stay here forever!"

He laughed at her, his smile making her heart beat faster. "Thank you for the praise, M'lady."

(Her life was planned out; her life was perfect. And she briefly wondered what it will be like if it wasn't.)

 **v.**

 **Unforeseen Circumstances**

Another knight had appeared near the palace in hopes to woo her.

This time, however, he had brought a horde of townspeople with him, armed with pitchforks and spears and torches to attack the dragon. She lay in her bed in an instant, all prepared with her bouquet of flowers and white handkerchief and lines of praise, and yet she was restless and unable to keep her eyes closed. She listened to the riot outside, wondering what had taken the dragon so long to fight them. The fight usually ended after an hour at most, but today was different. They had started in the morning, and continued until now that the sun was almost setting… and she could still hear the fight outside. An overwhelming dread settled in the pit of her gut, and she prayed that her anxiousness would go away and her dragon would be safe with her now.

(Since when did she not care about the welfare of the knights and the townspeople?)

(And since when did she call the dragon _hers_?)

It was nighttime when the noises outside finally subsided and the dragon appeared at her doorstep, the same way he appeared all the time after a fight. Only now, he was clutching his side as blood oozed out from a wound over his torso.

She immediately stood up from her bed and rushed over to him, throwing away her bouquet and other paraphernalia. "What happened?!" she demanded as she held his shoulders.

"A mob of people decided to help the knight," he whispered hoarsely as he collapsed on the floor. "Apparently, the dragon raids have become more frequent, and they think that by killing me, it would stop."

"Ridiculous," she breathed, and sought to remove the armor that was recently sent to him by his godfather. Frantically unclasping every portion of his clothing, she finally peeled off every fabric that was covering him.

"Eager are we?" he teased despite his predicament.

She ignored him as she inspected the laceration on his body. The wound was fortunately shallow, but it had covered a good portion of his torso just the same.

"You can leave it," he told her calmly. "It can heal by itself in due time."

"And leave you in pain?" she asked disbelievingly, getting up from the floor to gather supplies from her closet.

"Pain," he said in mock appreciation. "Love it."

"Come on," she pulled him up and assisted him as he sought to regain his balance. She led him downstairs to the small stream in the garden. "Let's wash that wound before it gets infected."

She lay him on the ground and proceeded to clean the wound with the clear water from the stream, ignoring his hisses of protest at the stinging sensation of the procedure. She dressed his wound after applying a liberal amount of salve, and made sure that the strip of silk was secure enough so that it wouldn't dislocate when he moved.

"Are you sure you want to use that on me?" he asked as he sat up, pointing at the bottle of salve. "It was meant for your Prince Charming after all. Or Knight in Shining Armor. Whoever was meant to rescue you."

"But you're the one here with me now, aren't you? You're my protector." She looked up at him then, and swallowed, not realizing that she had looked so deeply into his eyes.

He had grown into a fine young man, she realized. He was now at least a head taller than her, and his facial features had become more defined and well-structured. The moonlight highlighted his facial structures as if the gods themselves had chiseled them, taking special consideration for the straightness of his jawline. His eyes were orbs of fiery emeralds framed by soft auburn hair, which, although was messier, was still ridiculously endearing. Even his body had developed beautifully; muscular enough while still looking lean and lithe. Truly, attractive was an understatement when it was attached to his name.

She didn't know how or when she got so close to him, but the distance between them had slimmed down significantly. Her throat ran dry, and her heart skipped a beat as he leaned in, his eyes going softer as they darted from her eyes to her lips and back again. Her eyes half-closed in reflex, waiting in eager anticipation at what was to happen next—

But it never came.

He suddenly removed himself from her proximity, the action so swift and abrupt that she hardly had any time to react.

"Thank you," he croaked out, looking at anywhere but her. He stood up from the ground and immediately covered himself with what was left of his armor. "It's getting late. We should have dinner and sleep."

"Yeah," she agreed absentmindedly, still unable to pull herself out of her stupor. She eventually stood up from the ground as well, and both of them returned to the castle, an awkward distance separating both of them.

For the next few days, they decided to keep quiet about it.

(Her life was planned out; her life was perfect. And right now, she didn't really care if it needed to be planned out at all.)

 **vi.**

 **I Love You**

It wasn't until after three weeks one night that she decided to open up about it.

The night was warm and hot, and she found herself unable to sleep. She had called upon the dragon to read for her, just like all those times he did nearly three years ago.

"Once upon a time," he began because every story started that way. "In a kingdom far away, there lived a beautiful princess. She lived happily in her kingdom until a terrible dragon passed by the nation and upon seeing the Princess, fell in love with her—" (he had visibly stiffened as he read this line, but he sought to recover immediately; she noticed his discomfort anyway) "—He decided to abduct her one night, and thus, she was locked away in a castle guarded by the same dragon, and was bewitched to sleep. Many brave knights had attempted to free her from this dreadful prison, but none prevailed. So the Princess waited and waited for her knight in shining armor in the dragon's keep in the highest room of the tallest tower for her true love and true love's first kiss… Until one fateful day, Prince Charming valiantly surged in with his noble steed and killed the dragon. He raced towards the highest floor of the tallest tower and kissed the sleeping Princess. True Love's first kiss broke the curse, and the Prince and Princess married and ruled the Kingdom in peace. And they lived happily ever after."

Astrid peered at him from underneath the covers. Her face was decidedly blank, even as she blinked and stared. "The story forgot to add something else," she murmured quietly. "The Princess fell in love with the dragon, too."

Hiccup locked his eyes with hers and breathed audibly. She could see the conflict in his stare: there was devotion there, as well as intensity and passion that was muddled with apprehensiveness and despair.

" _Astrid_ ," he warned. He had never uttered her name before—it was always 'Princess' or 'M'lady'—and she found this development oddly adorable, if not for the situation that they were in right now.

"Hiccup," she answered back, rivalling his warning with her defiance. She rose up from her bed then, all the while holding his own gaze. This was the moment of truth. "Surely, you must know by now how I feel about you. I have thought long and hard about it—about us—and the conclusion is always the same. I've fallen for you."

The moment the words slipped from her lips, he abruptly rose from his seat and headed for the door, trying to evade her. She was faster, though, and her small frame blocked his way even before he could reach for the handle. She glared at him from underneath thick lashes, and lifted her chin to meet him head on. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me," she challenged.

"You should move away, Astrid," he told her, his tone surprisingly calm, though pain and restraint was evident in his voice.

"I won't move until you tell me that you don't love me," she replied, standing her ground.

"Astrid, please. We can't do this," he answered bitterly. "You're a princess, I'm a dragon. It doesn't work that way."

"But aren't you wondering what would happen if you gave this a chance?" she retorted, hopeful. "If you gave _us_ a chance?"

He ignored her and grabbed her shoulders to try and haul her away from the doorframe as gently as he could, but she proved to be immovable from her spot. When she proved to be so stubborn, he unexpectedly punched the door, his fist hitting the wood just right beside her head. Startled at the sudden act of violence, she gulped at the darkness of his stare that finally rivalled the fervor of her gaze.

"Don't you see? Everything I do, I do it because of _you_ " he breathed, desperation and frustration and pain lacing his voice. "Beating those men, scaring those knights. At first it was for good sport, some sort of act of letting off steam to assuage my need for revenge from all the bullying I had experienced when I was younger. But it had changed when we grew together; it had turned into something more. I had become rougher, more cruel to them. I wanted to tear apart anyone who dared try to save you, and it was then that I realized… I had become _possessive_ of you."

Astrid's gaze softened at his confession. She longed to touch him, comfort him, but she could not unfreeze herself from the tension in the air.

"I feel guilty about it, considering that it was my duty to protect you, not hoard you." His fist had unclenched itself from the wood and slowly, both of his hands caressed her cheeks, pressing into the smoothness of her skin with the careful fondness of a lover. "But I can't help it, I can't help the way that I feel for you. You have become more precious to me than gold or honor, more important than my family or my nation. Every dragon has his treasure, and you have become _mine_ , Astrid… But let's face it, this has been doomed from the very beginning."

There was silence as she stared into the depth of his eyes, the desolation and helplessness and the sense of defeat evident in them. It was as if several lifetimes had passed when he spoke again, but it was another man now, one who dwelt in angst and pain.

"The Prince always kills the dragon and marries the Princess," he reminded her icily. Every touch of a tender lover was gone to be replaced by the coldness of a stranger, and his words cut like a knife against the heaviness of her heart. "Always."

Then he was gone in an instant, leaving her trembling and distraught as reality came crashing down on her.

(Her life was planned out; her life was perfect. But she wished it wasn't perfect anymore.)

 **vii.**

 **Drive**

They ignored each other after that incident.

They were still civil about it, to an extent, but they made careful steps not to run into each other in the gardens, in the courtyard and when they paced around the castle. He still left her flowers and meals, but he no longer read to her or visited her after every fight. She feigned sleep even after an attempt of rescue, and she sought solace in countless hours of training with her axe.

Their situation remained that way, until a raven delivered ill news of what has become with the kingdoms from the dragon's godfather, Lord Gobber. The dragon burst into her room without warning one day, looking distraught.

"The dragons have attacked the Kingdoms almost every night now."

Apparently, the dragon raids have now become so terrible that all of the nations had formed an alliance and decided to march to Helheim's Gate and destroy the dragons once and for all, with King Stoick leading the way. He looked immediately panicked at the development. "They're going to die," he breathed.

"You don't know that," she tried to comfort him, forgetting for a moment that they weren't on speaking terms now.

"Yes, I do," he replied, pacing. "They don't know what's on the dragons' island, what monstrosity awaits for them there."

"You've been to the dragons' nest?" she inquired curiously.

"Of course I have," he confirmed, still restless, and her mind vaguely wandered to all those times when he was gone for several hours on some days. "I've searched for it ever since I learned that I was a dragonborn, and I have visited it a few times. I have mentioned to my godfather about its whereabouts in one of our exchanges." He looked up, then, as realization dawned on him. "They're marching right into certain death. I have to help them, or else they're going to get annihilated!"

"Then I'm coming with you!"

He looked at her as if it was the most ridiculous thing he'd heard. "No, you stay here," he said firmly.

"I don't want you going to a suicide mission alone," she replied defiantly. "If I can help you with anything, then I want to lend my assistance."

"You can't get out of here, you're my ward," he tried to justify. "And there's no way out of this piece of land without my help."

"I can fly with the deadly nadder," she explained. After several years of interaction with this dragon, she was rather certain that flying with her would prove to be fine, even though she had never ridden her for such a great distance before.

He regarded her for a few seconds, conflicted. "No," he said with finality. "It's too dangerous. You have to stay here and wait for me."

Astrid glared at him and fumed. "You can't keep me in here forever!"

"I already have!" he roared back. "Even knights and princes and noblemen couldn't save you, Princess."

"Then I'm going to save myself!"

He stared at her like she was crazy. And she supposed that she was.

She didn't know what compelled her to do it—perhaps it was the loneliness of her confinement, the longing to get outside of these damned walls after the incident, or the pang of his rejection of her that was eating her inside—but she had stormed towards her closet, grabbed her most trusted axe and pointed it at him.

"Dragon," she seethed with determination and courage and brilliance. "I challenge you to a duel for my freedom."

.

.

.

.

.

 _(she was locked in that tower for years,_

 _awaiting her rescuer_

 _until she gave up_

 _and rescued herself)_

.

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.

She faced him that afternoon.

He was in his dragon form, and she immediately launched herself at him the moment she saw the chance. She wasted no time in hacking at his scales, though she eventually realized that this did not do much to weaken him. The dragon moved away from her and attempted to remove her axe from her grip by swatting the weapon away from her hands with his tail. Her reflexes responded in time, though, and she twirled her weapon away, her muscles moving from memory of her training when she was younger.

They eventually settled into a cycle in their fight: she would attempt to come near him to look for an opening, and he would move away, preferring to hurl fire blasts at her. She would expertly dodge them, and attempt to go near him again.

The fight lasted for hours, but she was determined; she was going to get out of here whether he liked it or not. She knew that he was unwavering as well—he had after all declared that she was to stay here until he came back. But she did not want to wait any longer.

Dodging a shot of fire that had burst forth from the dragon's mouth, Astrid struggled to crawl from her position to his underside. She remembered once that there was a piece of flesh there that was not covered in scales, the same portion of his torso that was sliced before. Then she found it as she slid underneath his body, and slashed her axe at the tender flesh that was exposed on his underbelly.

The dragon roared in pain, the axe having embedded itself so deeply into his body. He promptly transfigured back into his human form, with Hiccup rising as he clutched at the bleeding wound that had appeared on his torso again. She hurled him to the ground with the last of her strength, and stood in triumph at her accomplishment.

She had defeated the dragon.

(Her life was supposed to be planned out, her life was supposed to be perfect. But plans change sometimes, and she hoped that it could still be perfect after this ordeal.)

 **viii.**

When the dragon was nursed enough after a few hours, both of them decided to leave the abandoned castle and head for Helheim's Gate.

She mounted her deadly nadder, and Hiccup decided that since he was not strong enough as it was, he was going to ride on Toothless. They ascended into the skies, and she followed his lead, together with a few other dragons that came with them.

The journey was long and tedious.

They passed by mountains and hovered over seas. She marveled at the beauty of the world from her new vantage point, shamelessly gaping at the forests, glaciers and deserts that they had come across. She never thought they'd reach their destination after several hours of flying, but after passing by seas that were covered in a terrible fog, a desolated island finally showed up.

Upon arriving at the Island, they discovered that they were too late.

Astrid gawked at the enormous dragon that was now rampaging, breaking the ranks of the joint army. It was about the size of a mountain, with coral-like spikes, blisters and sores dotting its body and three sets of eyes instead of two. Its look was so terrible and fearsome that even a thousand dragons combined could not rival its monstrosity.

The dragons that came with them attacked the huge beast, providing for a short distraction for them.

Astrid immediately sought for her father who she knew would be there, flying over the hordes of soldiers. She could see all of them look up to her in awe, marveling at the sight of a woman—a _Princess_ , no less—riding a dragon like it was nothing. Spotting a mop of blonde hair amongst the crowd, she urged her nadder towards his direction, and she immediately dismounted as soon as they landed, giving her father a warm embrace as soon as she reached him after pushing her way through the soldiers.

"Astrid?" her father breathed in wonder and disbelief after the hug. "But why— _how_?"

"It's a long story," Astrid replied tersely. "But what's important is that I'm here and we're here to help you."

"I think it must be a mistake coming here," her father replied, looking up to the rampaging dragon. "Who defeated the dragon guarding with you, Astrid? And are you alone?"

"Yes, well, it's a really long story that I'll explain later," she began, hoping that he'd drop it for now. Really, there was no time for this. "And I'm not alone, I'm with—"

"—Hiccup?" another deep voice chimed in, laced in the same awe and disbelief as her father's voice.

Astrid glanced beside her where Hiccup had dismounted his night fury as well, and looked towards the source of the voice. A huge man stood before them, muscular and intimidating. His red hair was braided at the back, and the braided trend continued on his beard, intricate and complicated. He shared the same green eyes with Hiccup, but his orbs expressed shock and bewilderment upon seeing the lad who had descended from the night fury.

Hiccup looked slightly surprised as well, but looked back softly at him. "Hi… _Dad_."

Astrid's eyes widened, and a tension filled the air at their reunion. Before anyone could react, however, a few figures emerged and engulfed Hiccup in a huge group hug, and he was left gasping for breath at the end of it.

"Great to see you, too guys," he commented, out of breath. "But this isn't really the time for a happy reunion. We still have a dragon to fight."

"We thought we'd never see you again," a huge lad with blonde hair said, and the others chimed in with him.

"I thought of the same thing as well—"

"—Sorry for ruining your heartwarming reunion," Astrid cut in, rolling her eyes in annoyance, "but we have _more_ pressing matters to resolve?"

"Right," Hiccup muttered and immediately withdrew himself from them, reaching for his night fury.

"Son," King Stoick called out, and Hiccup glanced back at him. "I'm sorry… for everything."

"Yeah, me too," Hiccup replied sincerely.

"You don't have to go up there."

"I know, but I want to." He moved away then, leaving all of them to stare at him as he was about to transform into a dragon. Astrid followed him, about to mount her dragon when Hiccup stopped halfway and grabbed her.

"You have to stay here," he told her firmly. "I'm the only one who has studied this dragon up close and it's too dangerous."

"Don't think of me as a maiden needing saving from a dragon," she spat at him. "You know better than that. I'm not a princess to be saved, but a future queen willing to fight by your side."

"I know. But I intend to keep you all to myself, even if it incurs your wrath." He grabbed her wrists then and shoved her towards her father who promptly received her. "Please make sure she stays with you while the fight goes on."

Her father nodded at him, securing her hands, but Astrid struggled against it. "You can't do this to me!"

Hiccup approached her one last time and met her angry eyes, caressing her cheeks. "I'll be back. I promise." He kissed her forehead and ran off, transforming into the formidable dragon that he was, with Toothless and the other dragons flying off with him.

"Hiccup!"

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.

.

 _(behind every princess_

 _is a fire-breathing dragon_

 _willing to fight_

 _for what was his)_

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

The fight went on for hours, just like when she had faced him before, but it felt so much worse.

They had taken the fight to the skies, having managed to budge the huge dragon from the ground. The beast spread its wings and put on the fullness of his terrible beauty on display, and she couldn't help but stare at the majesty of it. All of them climbed up the heavens, and their view of the fight was impeded by the thickness of the clouds. The only thing that they could make out were the fire blasts and the lightning flashes, as if a heavenly war was going on.

At last, the huge beast cried out in agony and fell, its wings having received most of the hits. Holes had gaped through when they were spread out, and the dragon struggled staying in the skies, falling to the depths of the earth below it.

A sigh of relief escaped Astrid's mouth at the sight of the fall of the dragon. But her relief was short lived as the dragon threw one last blast into the air, and the fire engulfed almost the entirety of the skies. In the distance, she could see the other dragons trying to fly up to escape it, except for one reddish-black dragon that was slowly transforming into its human form. Toothless came after him, trying to protect him from the fire.

Hiccup and Toothless fell from the skies, the fire from the blast consuming them.

.

.

.

When all of the flames and the rubble and the chaos subsided, Toothless revealed Hiccup's fallen frame from its wings, and Astrid ran as fast as she could to his side.

Her heart broke when she saw him limp and unmoving.

He looked dead.

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( _the people fought bravely;_

 _they had killed the dragon_

 _and the princess mourned for days_

 _for she had loved that dragon_ )

.

.

.

 _Princess Rapunzel was saved from her tower by a thief, but the Kingdom frowned at his status._

 _Princess Merida's Mother had tried to save her from the beast, and she was turned into one because of it._

 _Princess Anna discovered that the Snow Queen was her sister, who was supposed to inherit the throne._

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( _for these were the stories_

 _that fairy tales don't tell_ )

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(Her life can be re-planned, her life can still be perfect. Her Mother tries to convince her of this, but she knows that it can no longer be perfect anymore.)

 **ix.**

"He's nah dead, but we don' know when he'll wake up."

Lord Gobber translated Gothi the Elder's writing for all of them in the room.

After the fall of the Red Death, they had retrieved the dragon's body in its human form and deposited it in the highest tower of the Royal Palace of the Kingdom of Berk, after which he was immediately declared as a hero for his bravery in facing the Queen of Dragons. His previous titles were reinstated, though it was heatedly debated on whether or not he was to be named as the Crown Prince again. After all, he was still knocked out and there was no guarantee when he would wake up… Or if he would _ever_ wake up.

Princess Astrid didn't waste her time listening to idle gossip and political discourse; instead, she busied herself with things that might help him wake up, despite her mother's disapproval.

She visited the Kingdom of Berk nearly every day. Thankfully, it was a neighboring nation, so near her own Kingdom that she could travel from her Castle to the Palace of Berk for three hours on Stormfly at full speed. She brought him flowers every day, like what he did to her when they were still in his abandoned castle. They were not as diverse nor as interesting as his own assortment, she supposed, but she had handpicked them for him, just as he did, and it was an act that held such importance in her heart.

She read him stories, too. "Once upon a time," she always began because every story started that way; then they eventually ended between "the ogre killed the knight and kept the princess," "the witch punished the children and ate their innards," or her personal favorite "the dragon skewered the Prince and burned the kingdoms that dared attack it" because she knew damn well that they deserved it—they had deserved his wrath and not his mercy.

Berk did not deserve him. _She_ did not deserve him.

When he did not wake up after three months from his deep slumber, she decided to look for answers from beyond the borders of her kingdom. She travelled north to the icy nation of Arendelle, where she sought the wisdom of the trolls. But Grandpabbie, the eldest of them all, could not give her an explanation as dragonborns were complex and he could not pinpoint the cause of his deep sleep. Then she travelled west to the kingdom of Dunbroch, where a witch obsessed with wood carving had lived in its thick forests; but she could not give her a solution as well, saying that it was only Astrid who could solve it. More than confused with her words, she travelled south to the Kingdom of Lunaris, but no man could explain to her the solution that she needed.

Frustrated beyond belief, she went back to her kingdom and juggled her time between seeing her royal duties as a princess, teaching her kingdom how to tame dragons, riding Toothless and visiting Hiccup as often as she can. With what little time she had, she devoted to books in hopes of finding the cure for her dragon.

Seasons came and went, years passed by like seconds, and without warning, she found herself turning twenty-one.

It was in this time of her life that her mother tried to convince her that she was already of age, and despite having broken tradition, she was still as eligible a bride as ever, what with stories of her beauty, bravery and heroism. Any royalty would want her for a wife, her mother explained. She had tried stalling the prospect of marriage for as long as she can, but her mother had grown impatient with her stubbornness.

"You can't marry Prince Hiccup!" her mother seethed during a particularly nasty confrontation. "He's dead!"

"He's asleep," Astrid corrected her, unyielding. "He's not dead!"

"He might as well be," her mother fumed back, just as stubborn. "How will you marry someone who can't even give consent? Besides, even if he wakes up, what assurance do we have that he'd propose to you? What if there was some other dragonborn that he was interested in?"

Astrid blinked at the suggestion, taken aback. She tried to sound as strong as she can when she replied, "He has not expressed any interest in anyone else. He knew of no other dragonborn apart from his mother."

"Still, that is not enough. You have so many suitors and offers of marriage. Why do you insist on marrying the Prince of Berk?"

"Because I love him," she declared wholeheartedly, and even she was surprised by the strength in her voice.

"Love is good and all, but it is not needed in a political union. Although I am happy that you have found affection, we cannot dawdle on your marriage any longer. The kingdom needs heirs, Astrid."

She swallowed slowly. She wanted more time, needed more space. She didn't want to give up… not yet. But she knew her duties. Although she was in love, she knew that love wasn't enough in her position. She knew she would have to serve her country, sooner rather than later.

"Give me one last chance with him. Just one last chance with him, please."

(Her life was still planned out; her life was still perfect. But it didn't feel like it was perfect anymore.)

(Not without her dragon by her side.)

 **x.**

 **Embrasse-Moi**

"Once upon a time," she began, and clasped her hands on her lap as she looked at his sleeping form, exhausted but still determined to go through with her last chance. "There was once a princess. There are a lot of things you should know about her. She was a stubborn girl who did not believe in true love. She only knew about plans and schedules and alliances, and basically anything that was supposed to benefit her kingdom. Affection or fondness was not to be expected in her situation because she knew that the only thing that mattered was power and status. So when she was sent to the Dragon's castle for her rite of passage, she expected none of the bullshit that was known as love."

She swallowed, recalling the events in her youth. "You must also know that this Princess had her entire life planned out by virtue of her position. As the heir to the throne, she was expected to be smart, graceful and beautiful. She was to learn three languages when she was five, and three more when she was seven; she had to know history, geography and science when she was ten, and she was groomed and taught by only the most competent of teachers. Her mother personally trained her in the art of politics and diplomacy, and by the time she reached the age of fourteen, she was as knowledgeable in the court as any of her parents' advisors. It wasn't until she was fifteen that she was to enter the rite so many princesses before her; her mother had done it when she was fifteen, as well as her mother before her. You must understand, that this was the way of royalty for generations."

She restlessly paced then, feeling that she was going to go crazy in every second that she had to sit down. Confessing her feelings had never been her strongest suit. "It was expected that she was going to return by the reached the age of twenty-one, as it was to be her year of coronation. Then she would marry her Prince, and bear him three sons in the next ten years. By the age of forty, she was to teach all that she could to her children, and help them secure marriages and alliances. And then she would have to look out for her grandchildren when she would turn fifty, then retire of old age in the northern palace at the age of sixty."

Finally sitting by him on the bed, she stared at his peaceful form. "So you see, her life was a walking plan. And it was true of the tradition as well; there was a pattern, a story that is always followed, always adhered to, no matter what. The Princess is bewitched to sleep and locked up by the dragon, the Prince defeats the dragon and saves the Princess with True Love's first kiss, and then they both marry and live happily ever after. That was what was supposed to happen. That was the plan."

Then she held his hand and squeezed tight, her heart constricting as she confessed further. "Everything in the Princess' life was planned—what she was supposed to know, the process of choosing her groom, how many sons she'll have to bear—then you just come barging into her life and ruin the plan! But fuck it, she—I—I've never been so happy that my plans have been ruined because of the one thing that went wrong. And that was you."

She cradled his cheek with one hand, gently caressing his skin. Tears threatened to form at the thought of her losing him, and she found that it was more difficult when she continued, "There is one more thing that you should know about this Princess. She does not cry. She has never cried since she was eight, when her uncle saved her life. She did not cry when she was sent to live with the dragon, didn't cry when she was rejected by the one that she loved, and held on to dear hope when her dragon fell… But she's just so tired now. She's tired of waiting. She's waited before, and it ended with her having to save herself. She wants to wait for you, she really does, but with nothing to hold on to, she's just as hopeless as she was years before. And she just wants to… let go of the pain."

Astrid cradled both of his cheeks, releasing a breath that she didn't know she was holding. "And this is her last chance now. So please," she breathed as she lowered her head to meet his face. " _Wake up_."

She kissed him.

His lips were cold against her warm ones, but she felt the softness of them as she tenderly kissed his sleeping form. Her forehead touched his after the short caress of their lips and she trembled, waiting for the moment for his eyes to open.

Seconds passed, and then minutes. And when he didn't open his eyes for what she felt was an eternity, she finally let the tears fall.

It didn't work.

She wasn't his true love after all.

Slamming her body against his sleeping form, she sobbed, staining his white shirt with tears that dripped from her eyes like an unstoppable dam. She felt like she was drowning: no air could cure the suffocation she felt from her grief and no matter how she silently screamed through her tears, she could not stop the anguish that was consuming her shaking frame. Her mind re-lived their memories—from their first meeting to his last promise—but no recollection of him could fill in the cracks of her broken heart.

She felt like she was dying.

"You know," a weak voice cracked through the air, so soft and broken that she almost didn't hear anything through her tears. "It would really help if you kissed the dragon again."

She froze.

She didn't know if it was real or wishful thinking—maybe her mind was now playing tricks on her with her desperation and misery. She clutched his shirt as if it was her only support, and cautiously raised her head to glance at his face, afraid that she was dreaming.

His hopeful smirk told her otherwise.

He slowly opened his eyes to look at her, offering an apologetic smile. His green eyes were the same beautiful, molten fire, and when set upon his tranquil visage, she swore that this was no dragon, but an angel sent from Valhalla to bewitch her into oblivion.

She thought she'd never see those green eyes ever again.

"Dragon got your tongue?" he teased cheekily when she remained in stunned immobility for a few seconds.

Then she surprised him by doing the one thing he didn't think she'd do.

She _punched_ him.

"What was that for?!" he cried out in dismay, clutching at that part of his stomach where her fist had collided with his torso. "You were supposed to revive me with True Love's kiss, not send me dying again with the Legendary Sucker Punch of Certain Death."

"That's for scaring me," she seethed, her miserable tears now gone, to be replaced by a reproachful death glare. "And this," she continued angrily, grabbing the front of his clothes with the utmost force, "this is for everything else."

She kissed him again with such raw passion that he felt his mind going blank and senseless. He eagerly kissed her back after a few moments, pouring out all of his frustrations, all of his repressed affection, all of the romantic tension that had formed and stayed between them through all these years.

And finally, she thought, this was her happily ever after.

(No matter how her life was planned out, no matter how perfect it looked like, perfect wouldn't be perfect without her dragon by her side.)

.

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 _Princess Rapunzel married the thief that had saved her._

 _Princess Merida defeated the beast and returned to her Kingdom without a husband, but with her family intact._

 _Princess Anna gave the throne to her elder sister, the Snow Queen, and her sister ruled the Kingdom in peace and harmony._

.

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Not all princesses need to be damsels in distress and not all kingdoms are saved by a knight in shining armor. Sometimes, demons need to be vanquished on your own and some dragons need to be saved. But what is constant was love, true and pure, whether it be between sisters, between mother and daughter, or between lovers who do not seem to fit perfectly at first.

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 _(how was that for a happily ever after?)_

* * *

 **END**

* * *

 **TL;DR:** The dragon is actually the princess who kills the bigger dragon and who needs to be kissed by the prince to wake up from eternal sleep, and the princess is actually the knight in shining armor who defeats the dragon and kisses the princess—err—dragon. Wait, that didn't come out right. Whatever, the role reversals are confusing me. X)

Credits to caliginosity on tumblr + random quote images from pinterest for the lines on stories that fairy tales don't tell.

Hiccup was supposed to transform into a night fury here, but I wanted a more… traditional (?) dragon, like Smaug or Drogon, and I think night furies are too cute to be terrifying. X)

Just a heads up: I will be very very busy for the next few weeks (as in deadlines almost every day, engagements needing to be finished, and perhaps loads and loads of overtime), so the next installment of the other fic may be pushed until late November, or even perhaps December, so I apologize for that. I'm still hoping for the best, though. X)

If you enjoyed this oneshot, I'd like to know what you think. Please read and review, if I may be so bold to ask. Or fave or follow or something. X) Thank you very much for reaching the end of this page! :)


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